


Doppleganger

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, fili - Freeform, kili - Freeform, random humourous fic, thorin oakenshield - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 09:18:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: Some say imitation is the highest form of flattery. Most just find it annoying.





	Doppleganger

“Oh man, this is going to be hilarious,” You sat braiding your hair in the tent as Kili and Fili looked at you curiously.

“What exactly is so funny?” They watched as you tied the first braid, slipping a silver clip over the end, the closest you could get to what you needed.

“Oh, you will see,” You began to braid the other, your dark hair as thick as any dwarves, “I am a genius.” Or guilty of treason, who knew?

“No, no,” Fili looked in realization at Kili, “That is too much.”

“It’s not enough,” You took the charred ash you had gather from the pit, rubbing it on your hairless chin, “He is only getting what is coming.”

You spread the black soot over your jaw and brows, looking into the back of a spoon to make sure it was decent. You were actually surprised how well you had done. It nearly looked like a real beard. Thorin should never have crossed you, he had only asked for it.

“So, nephews,” You deepened your voice and stood, donning your new persona, “What mischief have you gotten yourself into this day?”

“Oh, he is going to murder you,” Kili looked to his brother with a sly grin, “But it will be entertaining nonetheless.”

“Who are you speaking of?” You boomed, “I shall slay him where he stands.”

“Thorin,” Fili looked a little concerned as you failed to break character.

“I am Thorin,” You barked, “Thorin Oakenshield and I shall reclaim what is mine by right.”

“You are mad,” Kili warned as he stood in the low tent.

“We must be off,” You tore the flap open, your shoulders squared, your strides precise.

“Dwalin, my old friend,” You walked over to the bald dwarf, “Is your ax sharp? We must be ready.”

“Oh, Mahal,” He growled, realizing what was happening.

“Sweet child,” Balin called from behind you, “Do not do this.”

“I am your king,” You roared in your fake voice, “I must do what needs to be done.”

The other dwarves were all looking at you and you restrained a grin.

“With me, nephews,” You walked briskly around the camp, pretending to inspect everyone and everything as Thorin did, “No good.”

“This is glorious,” Fili chuckled, holding onto his brother.

“Where is the real Thorin anyways?” Kili whispered.

“Nephews,” Another deeper voice called from behind, “I—What is going on?” His face was marred with confusion as you turned back and cut off the Durin brothers.

“Who is this imposter?” You marched up to him indignantly, though you weren’t able to mimic his height, your head ended at his shoulder, “What treason is this?”

“What?” Thorin looked utterly lost until his eyes lit with realization, “What in Mahal are you doing?”

“What in Mahal are  _you_  doing?” You repeated back, making your voice even deeper.

“Stop,” He frowned, crossing his arms.

“You cannot order me around, I am the king,” You crossed your arms in the same manner.

“You walk a dangerous path,” He warned, lowering his brow.

“Danger is what we must face to reclaim the Mountain,” You lowered your brow as well.

“You are a child,” He exhaled.

“I am a king!” You proclaimed, turning back to Kili and Fili, “Nephews, take this creature from my sight.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Thorin pushed past the two brothers as he caught up to you, “You should quit while you’re ahead.”

“Nothing will keep me from Erebor,” You declared with a regal sweep of the arm, “Now, I am much to busy to deal with such antics.”

“[Y/N],” He growled in warning.

“Where?” You looked around as if searching for someone, “That little rat needs to learn her place.”

“I never–” Thorin began, “I don’t sound like that.”

“No, I sound like that,” You stroked your false beard, “I am Thorin Oakenshield, the one and only.”

“Wait,” He grabbed at the tunic you wore, “How did you get my tunic?”

“This is my tunic,” You tore his hand away with offense, “Do not touch me. I am–”

“A king, I know,” He grumbled, “Is that what you want?”

“I want the Mountain!” You growled back at him.

“Oh please, stop,” He pleaded as you continued around the camp, greeting the others as he would, “Master Thief,” You stopped beside the uncomfortable hobbit, “You must be prepared. We have a long journey ahead, full of peril.”

“Don’t listen to her,” He told Bilbo.

“‘Her’?” You turned on your heel, “I think you will find I am a him.”

“Oh, really?” He lifted a brow, “Than why don’t you prove it?”

“How dare you! I am Thorin Oakenshield,” You hid the discomfort that was starting to fill you, “Though that is not the only thing they call me, I am known to some as Thorin Longtree.” You motioned vulgarly to you crotch and his mouth dropped open.

“What?” His voice was a whisper among the awed silence.

“It’s because I have a rather large branch,” You explained, fighting to keep the grin from your face, “Like a tree.”

Kili and Fili were frozen in place just behind their real uncle, trembling with restrained mirth. Thorin’s face was pale as snow and you were content with your work, “Now, if you would be so kind as to let me attend my work, I shall leave you. I have a Mountain to reclaim.”

You strode off past him and headed back to your tent with kingly grace, throwing your hair back dramatically before disappearing inside into a fit of laughter.


End file.
